Here and Then Again
by claire sorrentino
Summary: Time-travel with a twist. Instead of traveling back to the Marauders time, Ginny finds herself in a merged timeline where Harry is 11 and James is 16 and Sirius is serious trouble. There's no way to fix the timeline, but that doesn't mean she can't try to stop Voldemort, right? Ginny/Sirius. Read and review please! Rating may change to M.
1. Chapter 1

**Here and Then Again**

**Author's Note:** Hello everyone. This is a re-post from an earlier attempt of this idea that I abandoned because of some unfixable character errors. So if this seems familiar, that may be the reason. This will be Ginny/Sirius, but you can expect to see other couples fluttering about as well. I love reviews and can assure you that they motivate me to (1) update faster and (2) stick with the story. I also want to stress that if you have any questions/comments/concerns with or about the story please, please ask them. I am re-posting this story because of excellent feedback that I received the first time around that has, in my humble opinion, made this story better. So, spelling errors, people out of character, whatever it is, just let me know. (This isn't an invitation to flames, just honest feedback).

**Prologue: The White Bridge**

Walden MacNair grew up to be a Death Eater. It wasn't the career choice his parents would have picked for him, but one choice leads to another and sometimes you wake up someplace unexpected.

Truth be told, MacNair's _mother_ was a pureblood witch from Scotland. Her family had never been exceedingly talented at magic, but they made do. She'd gone to Hogwarts, but married outside the magic community to a muggle. Alistair MacNair wasn't just any muggle though. He was a druid, learned in the arts of druidry. MacNair was a little fuzzy on the details considering his father had died when he was ten. What he remembered of his da was a deep rolling laugh and a dark tan. That an innumerable walks on the moor, his da teaching him how to listen to the earth, feel the chemical imperfections in the soil, and _heal_ the land with a bit of druid magic. He also remembered the White Bridge, but he didn't remember it until the end.

After his da's death, his mother moved back to England. MacNair got his letter written in green ink. A new chapter to his life started. He went to Hogwarts. Was sorted into Slytherin. Met some purebloods and lied to them in order to fit in. _Of course_ he was a pureblood wizard. But his father was actually his mother's brother, so it had to kept on the low-low. He'd initially been uneasy about hanging out with people who thought it was okay for his mother and uncle to have an intimate relationship but thought it was taboo for his mother to have a relationship with an unrelated man with a talent for magic more obscure then what they practiced. But no matter. Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Black and the others had been so bright and shiny to him. The perfect rolemodels. They welcomed him in with open, backstabbing hands.

MacNair grew farther and farther from his roots. He dyed his brown hair black. Pierced his nipples and belly button and tongue. Drank alcohol. Tormented those weaker than himself. Dabbled in the dark arts. Joined a group led by a terrifying powerful and successful wizard named Voldemort. He was branded with the Dark Mark and wore the badge proudly.

The things he did would make his da's blood curdle. Well, at least his da was dead and never did see him murdering muggle families in their sleep. Not quickly either. At least his da was dead and didn't see him spread chaos and fear through the wizarding world during the First Wizarding War. At least his da was dead and didn't see his shameful behavior afterward, slinking back and pretending to have been under the Imperious Curse.

Then there was the monotony of the restless peace. He took a job as an executioner of dangerous beasts. And there he stayed until Voldemort's return.

By the time the final battle rolled around he was no longer his father's son in any sense of the word. He was filled with a poisonous darkness, attacking a school and laughing at the pitiful defenses of the students trying to defend it. Laughing at the anguish of those who's friends and family were being permanently severed.

He laughed his father's booming laugh, but it was not warm, it was cold. Like thunder rippling across a lake. His wand flashed green light and struck his hapless target in the back. It was the battle of the century. Good versus evil. Strong versus weak. Harry Potter versus the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord was winning. And then, inexplicably, he wasn't. All it took was a rebounded curse and Voldemort was falling to the floor looking weak and deflated.

True chaos erupted then. Not for Harry's side, but for the Death Eaters. There was a moment of stunned silence, and then absolute bedlam. Curses started flying again as everyone tried to flee at once. One curse ricocheted off a suit of armor and struck MacNair in the small of his back. He fell in the courtyard, wand flying from his fingers and clattering on the flagstone. His head smashed down hard and he tasted blood from a suddenly split lip.

Droplets of blood struck the earth. Droplets of the blood of a dying druid. To him it seemed as if cotton was removed. He could suddenly hear the earth again. Feel it. And what he felt wasn't good at all. Evil was seeped into the ground, strong, black magic. The Dark Lord's spirit aligned with the spirit of the earth. It wasn't enough to revive Voldemort. It was just enough to delay, to allow Voldemort to suck the life from the planet. MacNair had a vision, brief and poignant. Dry rivers and dying trees stripped of leaves. The end of the world.

He started to chant, slowly at first, lips struggling to remember the old rites his father had used to heal the earth. His blood flowed in free sacrifice, but it wasn't enough. He was about to give up, let himself fade quietly into the next life saddled with regret when the memory of the White Bridge pricked in his mind.

The White Bridge was a euphemism for time travel. It was complicated druid magic, but if he recalled, there were times of the year – solstices and such – when the gate could be opened and one could travel into the past. MacNair had this thought that he would travel into the past and . . . fix it. Somehow.

He whispered the last words in Gaelic, thankful that he'd taken the time to study for his last ancient runes test. But as the White Bridge started to spin in his mind, Walden remembered something horrible. He'd failed that test.

And now he had no idea what he'd manipulated Time into doing. If his da were still alive, he'd be so ashamed. MacNair prayed feverishly that whatever happened, he wouldn't end up someplace where he couldn't fix anything. _Just let this work_, he thought, and then blackness fell like a veil across his eyes.

**Chapter One: King's Cross Station **

Ginny felt she must have passed out from exhaustion. She remembered Harry defeating Voldemort. And everyone celebrating as the Death Eaters scrambled away. She'd been sitting with her head on her mother's shoulder, crying softly with relief and grief. She'd felt a strange sensation for a second, a prickling tingle, and then a veil of darkness shuttered over her and she slept.

At least she thought she'd slept. She was waking up now and not under altogether pleasant circumstances. Someone had seized her shoulder and was shaking her violently shutting "Wakey-wakey eggs and bakey!" over and over again.

Her eyelids felt like they were glued shut, but she managed to pry them open and glare blurrily at her assailant. It was George. How could he be so cheerful, what with Fred . . . she blinked rapidly, tears making it harder to see.

"Whadaya want?" she grumped.

The twin clutching her shoulders grinned, lips quirked up more on the left like Fred's smile. George grinned up on the right. It was subtle but after knowing them all her life she had finally figured that particular tell out only weeks before knowing it was useless. "F-fred?" she stammered.

His grin widened. "Wake up, Ginny! If you don't get up, you'll get left behind. Then where will you be? Here with mum, while the rest of us are off at Hogwarts playing pranks on Filch and ole Ms. Norris!"

Her mouth opened but before she could say anything he shook her again. Her teeth clacked together painfully. "Aren't you dead?" she croaked.

"Dead?" He looked around, brown eyes suddenly haunted. He let go of her, turning. His shoulders started to shake. His freckles seemed to stand out starkly. "I-I-I'm . . ."

Ginny swallowed hard, a lump forming in her throat. It was George. Not Fred. And she'd just reminded him that Fred was never coming back again. They were going to put him in a box in the ground with a pretty headstone. A poor substitute for such a lively and fun-loving brother. Tears prickled. "I'm sorry," she said. "George I wish that there was –"

The twin in her room whipped around, drool oozing from his mouth. "I'm a brain-eating zombie agggggggghhhh!" He lunged toward her, spittle flying everyone. Ginny shrieked. He started laughing. "Seriously, Ginny, you're way too easy." He fluffed her hair. "Now hurry up and pack before mum gets up here and realizes you're not ready for school." He left the room. She stared at the door, heart hammering in her throat, drool drying on her forehead where he'd had the audacity to maul her. The door opened again, and he gave her a pained look. "And for the record, I'm Fred, not George. Sheesh, and you call yourself my sister." He pranced off.

Ginny stayed put. She wiped at the drool with one hand, letting herself fall back toward bed. George had cracked. That's all there was to it. Fred's death had been too much so he was going to . . . going to what?

The door opened again. This time her mother bustled in. Her mother who had out-dueled Bellatrix Lestrange only one day earlier. Her mother who had lost a son and had another one slipping into insanity. Molly Weasley looked surprisingly well in Ginny's eyes. She was a bit plumper than she'd looked the day before and with less worry wrinkles marring her face. Her fiery red hair was in a low bun and escaped tendrils framed her face. Her kind grey eyes took in the state of Ginny's room and of Ginny herself and she sighed theatrically. "Ginerva I told you to pack last night. You said that you would and here I find you with not a thing in your trunk."

"Uhmmm, mum?" Ginny whispered. "I think that George needs some help."

"He's got Fred for that," her mother said stiffly. "You clearly need more help than those two. Honestly, you're normally more prepared than this. Bill too." She pulled her wand out and started directing a pile of textbooks from shopping bags into a beat-up red and gold trunk. Next went a mass of school robes, socks, undergarments, pants, skirts, ties (ties?), and white blouses. Molly gave her an annoyed look when she was done. "Well, off into the shower with you. We're going to miss the train if you and Bill don't stop giving me troll faces."

"Troll faces?"

"It means you're acting like you don't have a clue what's going on," Charlie said heading by the door lugging a school trunk behind him.

Ginny swung her feet out of bed and hurried to look at him. There was something _off_ about him. Besides the fact that he was wearing a white dress shirt, a red and gold tie, and dress pants. "Where's Charlie going?" she asked her mother.

Molly's exasperated look faded and was replaced by concern. "Are you feeling alright, dear?" she asked. She touched her hand to Ginny's forehead. "If you're sick I could –"

"I'm okay, mum," she said. She spontaneously hugged her. "I love you and dad and everyone, okay," she said. "I'm just a bit . . . I don't know. Exhausted. Yesterday is going to take a long time to recover from. I'll get showered and dressed and be down in a few."

A "few" later she was at breakfast. It was a noisy, typical affair, full of rapidly changing conversation, exceedingly delicious oatmeal and fruit pieces, and all eight of her immediate family members. Both Fred and George were there. Both of them. Ginny starred at the twins so hard that she barely touched her food.

George nudged Fred and they both grinned at her. George's mouth quirked on the right, Fred's on the left. She looked away and found herself ogling Ron. Something was seriously, seriously, seriously wrong with him. He looked like he was eleven, not seventeen. Had he gotten de-aged or something? He looked a little green around the gills and was pushing his oatmeal around his bowl instead of eating it. Ginny looked away from him to the rest of the family. Everyone looked wrong, younger or plumper or less scared or less dead than they'd been the day before.

"Did I die?" she asked finally. But her voice was too quiet to hear over the racket Fred and George were making. They'd finished eating and had started a game of exploding snap.

Ginny decided later that if she wasn't dead she was in the world's weirdest dream. Ron was apparently only eleven. Her mum thought so and so did her dad. It was his first year at Hogwarts. The new term was slated to start the next morning and today they had to go to King's Cross to board the Hogwarts Express. Ron was still taller than her, but he was shorter than he'd been the day before and his shoulders less broad. His fuzzy facial hair was gone too and his baby teeth were back. Eleven years old. Clutching his pet rat, Scabbers, that he'd inherited from Percy. Scabbers the pet rat that was actually an animagus named Peter Pettigrew. A traitor hiding as a rat in a wizarding family. She'd come back to that later, once she had a better idea what the hell was going on.

"Mum . . ." she said as Charlie and Bill piled the trunks into the car. Seven trunks, one for each of the Weasley children going to Hogwarts. Molly had tears in her eyes and was already feeling the beginnings of empty nest syndrome. "Are you . . . do you know what year everyone is going to be in? Do you remember?"

Molly sniffed. "Oh, you're just as bad as Bill," she said. "Of course I remember. I'm your mother and I love you all. Bill's in his last year, Charlie's in Sixth, your starting Sixth, Percy's in Fifth and dreadfully anxious about his OWLS, Fred and George are in Fourth, and Ron is in his First Year." She patted Ginny's hand. "How could I forget any of that?" She ushered Ginny into the backseat of the pale blue Ford Anglia. Fred and George got in on either side. Molly and Arthur were up front with Bill and Charlie. Percy squeezed into the backseat. Ron squeezed into the front.

As they whizzed into traffic, Percy took out his Prefect badge and started polishing it, completely unaware that Fred and George had jinxed it to say "pinhead."

At King's Cross station Arthur, Bill, Charlie, and Ron went to get trolleys. They loaded their trunks, two per trolley and started into the building. It was bustling, muggles hurrying to their trains while wizarding families arriving without floo powder checked their tickets to confirm their destination at Platform 9 ¾.

Ginny's eyes swept the crowd, searching for some explanation for her situation. Because she couldn't comprehend that this was in fact reality. She didn't know about MacNair's attempts to save the earth from Voldemort's final spell. In fact, there was no reason that she should have been unaffected by the spell and yet sometimes magic had a funny way of working. So although she was clearly unaffected by the time magic, everything around her was. Ginny suspected that she was (a) dead or (b) dreaming.

Out of the corner of her eye she finally saw one of the people she thought would know what to do. The boy was tall, with unruly dark hair sticking up madly in all directions. He was pushing a trolley loaded with two trunks and a large snow white owl hooting quietly in its cage. _Harry_!

She peeled away from her family, zeroing in on the wizard who had finally ended Voldemort's reign of terror. She'd gotten two feet before Charlie caught her arm and pulled her to a stop. "Platforms this way and we're already running behind –"

"Er, gotta pee," she muttered. "It'll only be a second."

"Can't it wait for the train?" Charlie asked. "We're gonna be done for it we miss it." Ginny grimaced, finally figuring out what was missing from Charlie: burn scars. All of the shiny patches of magically healed skin were gone. And most of his other scars were missing too.

"I'll just be a second," she said, tugging loose and hurrying away. She felt Charlie watch her head towards Harry and heard him mutter "oh Potter" before she caught Harry's sleeve. "Hey," she said. "Tell me that you know what's going on."

He was talking with a short, plump blonde boy wearing a Gryffindor colored tie, but turned slowly. "Well, look who it is," he drawled. "It's . . ."

Ginny blinked, catching a hesitation in his voice. "Tell me that you recognize me," she said. "You have to recognize me."

"Hmmm," he murmured, cocking his head to the side. "Let's see . . . you look like a Jenny?" He flashed a crooked, charming smile.

She deflated. "It's _Ginny_."

He leaned forward, tapping her nose with one long finger. "Of course it is, Ginny," he said softly, his voice seeming too polished now that she thought about it. "How could I forget a cute little freckle dusted nose like that?" He drew his finger from the tip of her nose to her lips and she blushed. He chuckled. "You're awfully cute when you blush."

She forced herself to meet his eyes. "Listen, Ha-"

He stared at her with startling blue eyes ringed by dark lashes. His wire-framed glasses glinted as a train pulled onto a nearby platform. "I'm listening, sweetheart."

She stepped back, shaking her head. "It's a dream. A dream," she repeated. The boy standing before her looked remarkably like Harry. The shape of his wrong colored eyes, his nose, his lips, hell, even his ears looked similar. But he wasn't built like a seeker with wiry muscles. He was built like a chaser, all hard muscles showing through his white dress shirt.

"Most girls think I'm a dream come true," the young man standing before her said. "They usually don't say it to my face like this though. Probably worried my ego can't take it." His smile faltered when she continued backing away, shaking her head in disbelief. "Ginny?"

"N-nothing," she stammered. "I have to go." She turned and hurried away.

"Smooth," she heard one of the man's friends say. "I think she realized you forgot her."

Ginny reached the safety of her family. Charlie's arms were folded across his chest. "Really, Ginny?" he asked. "Potter the prat?" He shook his head and then pushed the trolley with their bags through the barrier.

Ginny was still shaken, but started to follow him. She made it two or three feet before she heard a soft, almost hesitant voice. "Excuse me, ma'am." The voice was painfully familiar. She turned slowly as if she were trying to catch a raindrop and time slowed down to make it seem possible.

The boy was wearing round glasses held together with tape. He had untamed black hair and brilliant green eyes. His mother's eyes. He was speaking to Mrs. Weasley.

"Hello dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new too." She pointed at Ron who was clutching Scabbers nervously.

"Yes," said Harry. "The thing is – the thing is, I don't know how –"

"How to get on to the platform?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly. "Not to worry. All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platform nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on now before Ron."

"Err . . .okay," Harry said. He wheeled his cart in front of him and started for the barrier. Picking up speed, he disappeared into the wall. Ginny gaped after him.

"You're next, Ron," Mrs. Weasley said. And as her youngest son started forward, she looked at Ginny. "My goodness, dear," she said. "You're not awake yet are you?"

"No mum, I'm not," Ginny said, eyes still too wide. "I think I just had a bad dream and it's sticking."

"About what dear?"

"Voldemort," she said, nearly stunned at the events happening around her. She hardly noticed the effect her words had on her mother, until she was in a shaky death grip. "What?" she asked. "Did I say something weird?"

"You said You-Know-Who's name," Mrs. Weasely whispered fiercely. "What were you thinking?" She looked around, almost as if she expected him to come sailing into the station with his red eyes gleaming bloody murder.

"Thinking?" Ginny said. "I'm thinking that I'm in a dream." She was biting the inside of her lip, chewing furiously with nerves. Abruptly she bit down a little hard and the coppery taste of blood exploded in her mouth. She gasped. She's had plenty of vivid dreams before, but none where she tasted anything. "It's not a dream, is it?" she whispered.

Her mother touched her forehead again, but Ginny shrugged her hand away and gave her a furious hug. "I'm going to be late for the train," she said. "We should go." Together with her mother she hurried through the barrier. This was just getting weirder by the second.

Although she didn't know it, things were only going to get stranger. You see, when MacNair did his spell, he didn't send _anyone_ back into time. It was more like he took time and smashed it flat blending parts of the past into the present and making a new reality that was between the here and now and the then. Time, in an effort to right itself, re-tied all the strands as best it could. People's ages were altered. Their memories affected. Besides Ginny, only a very few people remembered all the details of their former futures. But more on that later. All the complicated details would soon become clear the confused Gryffindor student.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: The Hogwarts Express **

With Ginny acting strange, Molly was reluctant to let her go. Ginny wasn't sure she wanted to leave either, but then again, she figured she'd never been the stay-and-wait-like-a-good-little girl type. So with many hugs and kisses for her parents, she boarded the train with all of her siblings and waved goodbye until the platform with her parents disappeared from view.

As the train gathered speed, Ginny realized that her family had already dispersed. Percy was off being Prefect somewhere; Arthur had helped him fix his badge before he got on the train. Fred and George had hooked up with Lee Jordan who apparently had a tarantula in a shoebox. Charlie was just gone, as was Bill. Ron had hustled into a car with Harry and the two of them were becoming fast friends already.

Ginny made her way down the halls. She spotted too many unfamiliar-familiar faces. There was Hermione Granger. She was already wearing her school robes. Her bushy brown hair was billowing around her head and her front teeth were oversized. She was prattling on and on about how she'd never known she was a witch until she got her acceptance letter. Both of her parents were dentists after all. She'd gotten all her books weeks ago and had done some light reading on the school.

Neville Longbottom was there too, weeping about how Trevor, his pet toad, was missing already. A few feet from him, talking to Katie Bell the blonde chaser for the Gryffindor house quidditch team, was Oliver Wood. He was less impressive in some ways now that she was older. He had a roguish charm to his grin and was making broomstick motions with his hand while animatedly telling Katie about a quidditch camp he'd attended over the summer. Ginny eavesdropped for a few minutes, then turned to find some answers elsewhere.

A few feet later the train lurched a bit and she stumbled to the side, nearly knocking a thin, pale faced boy down. "Watch it," the boy snapped, shoving her away from him.

Ginny took an offended step back. "Oi, Malfoy," she said, looking him up and down. "You're pint-sized." She didn't know why that bothered her so much. Malfoy had been a constant thorn in her side since she started at Hogwarts. He was a talented enough wizard, which had always made tangling with him a chore. Add to that his sharp, insult-ready tongue and well, it just wasn't right looking down at him.

"You must be a Weasley," he sneered, catching the sleeve of her robes where it was fraying. "More kids than money."

"You're like a little midget," Ginny repeated, still too stunned to be upset by his insult. She patted his head, noting that his hair really was gelled back. She's always suspected it, but had never worked up the nerve to touch the top of his head before. "Little midget Malfoy."

He flushed angrily, reaching for his wand.

"Do you even know any spells?" she asked. "Well, I guess you must know a few considering who your old man is, but honestly, you're so tiny."

She would have continued, but at that moment someone tall came up behind her, shadow blocking out the light. "Leave Draco alone, Weasley," a cool, cruel voice said.

Ginny turned slowly, resisting the urge to go for her wand. The speaker had Malfoy's pale face and pale blue eyes. He even had the blond hair, but instead of being slicked back it was straight out of a muggle conditioner commercial. It was long and silken, brushing the shoulders of black robes. The arrogant looking young man had a green and silver tie knotted immaculately at his throat and was wearing a ring with a family crest set with tiny emeralds.

"It's another Malfoy," Ginny managed to say. "A bigger one."

The bigger Malfoy had been a nightmare for her first years at Hogwarts. He'd been the one to give her Riddle's diary. She shivered, remembering all the horrible things he'd done to her and her family since then.

"I don't need your help, Lucius," Draco drawled. Two tall, burly mountain-sized eleven years olds materialized on either side of the smaller Malfoy. Crabble and Goyle. Malfoy turned and strolled off, the two big boys falling into step behind him like trollish bodyguards.

"So," Ginny said, gazing up at Lucius Malfoy. "You're looking decent." She scratched the side of her cheek. "Hair looks good. Not receding yet, I see."

Lucius touched his famous blond locks self-consciously. "Move along, Weasley," he said. "Before you get yourself hexed."

"Right," Ginny said. "Moving along." She stepped past him, not even caring that she was doing exactly what a Slytherin told her to do without question or insult. She reached the nearest car and slid the door open, popping her head in to evaluate its suitability as a resting place.

The young man that looked like Harry glanced up and gave her an easy smile. "Hello, Ginny," he said. He turned to the pudgy blond boy to his left. "That was her name, wasn't it, Peter?"

The boy named Peter whispered back, "Yes," as if he were passing the information secretly.

Ginny gave them both a pained smile and turned away. All the empty seats in the world wouldn't get her into that car. At least not until she had a better idea what the hell was going on. As she left, two more young men entered the car. Ginny didn't look at them closely, but one of them smelled faintly of car exhaust and sweat. "You're never going to _believe_ what I finally got," he was saying as she hurried away.

Several cars later, Ginny was starting to realize the hopelessness of her situation. If it wasn't someone she knew from her time at Hogwarts, it was someone she knew was a death eater or a member of the Order of the Phoenix or Ministry employee. Sure she didn't know everyone, but it was just too weird seeing people looking so . . . wrong.

She peeked in another car window and didn't see anyone for a change. An empty car? What were the chances of that? She yanked the door open and flung herself into a seat by the window before she realized that the car wasn't empty by a long shot. Sitting across from her, glaring with black eyes from beneath lank greasy black hair was Severus Snape.

He was less intimidating as a teenager. Scrawnier and smaller all the way around. Well, except for his hook nose, which was as prominent as ever. "You," she said, tone accusing. He'd been the one that murdered Dumbledore. Her mouth formed an angry little line. He'd also been Headmaster at Hogwarts her previous, unpleasant year. The murdering skunk-bat had hired two death eaters – sometimes she thought just to make her life miserable.

He narrowed his eyes. "Miss Weasley," he sneered. "How lovely to see you again. I was beginning to think that I was going to have to spend the entire year without hearing your dulcet tones and simple-minded sentences."

Ginny leaned back, crossing her ankles in front of her. "Well, at least you're consistent." She pressed her lips together, twisting them to the side in her best unimpressed look. "I should warn you that if you even think about murdering anyone this year I'm gonna have to make you regret being born and all that stuff. The Dark Arts won't be enough to save you."

He raised an eyebrow, giving her the disdainful and patronizing look that only Snape had ever really managed to pull off. "I assure you that the only person I wish to murder is James Potter."

"Yeah, well in case you hadn't heard he's dead," Ginny said. "So I guess that means we're not going to have problems with each other, are we?"

Snape blinked rapidly. "Wait, what?"

"Well . . ." Ginny said, reconsidering. "Not really dead of course," she said. "I just meant figuratively dead. He's annoying and all." She had a sudden thought that the boy that looked so much like Harry was probably James Potter. Which would explain a lot. And it wasn't like other dead people weren't wandering the halls. She'd walked in on Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang snogging after all. And Cedric was as dead as Fred was supposed to be. Come to think of it, had Snape even survived the final battle? She hadn't seen him . . .

"That's disappointing," Snape said, leaning back. He folded his arms across his stomach and turned his attention out the window. They had passed through the city and the train was gaining speed in the open countryside.

"So," Ginny said casually as she could, "Back to Hogwarts."

"Yes."

"Excited?"

"Hardly."

"Notice anything strange today?"

"As a matter of fact I have."

"Really? What?" Ginny asked, hopeful for a second that Snape actually knew what was going on. If there was someone who could piece it all together it was the potions master. He was a master at occlumency after all.

"You," Snape said, eyes narrowing.

"What about me?" Ginny asked. "It's my age, isn't it? Well, maybe not my age. I'm the right age after all. It's everyone else. Like you. I mean how old are you?"

"Sixteen," he said tightly. "We're in the same year and have been for the past five years."

"Oh," Ginny said, elation vanishing. "Well, that's awkward."

Snape didn't deign to respond, and they sat in awkward silence for several long minutes. Then the door opened and the most beautiful young girl Ginny had ever seen ducked in. Her hair was a dark red and slightly curly. She was curvy and had a bright, welcoming smile. Her eyes were the same exact shade of startling green that Harry's were. "Hello, Severus," she said. "How were your holidays?"

"Good," Snape said, a very un-Snape-like expression lingering on his face. He moved over, making room beside him. "How about yours, Lily?"

"Oh God," Ginny said. "You're Lily Potter, aren't you?" She clapped both hands to her mouth in astonishment. Harry's mother was alive. Harry's dad was alive. But neither of them were old enough to be Harry's parents.

Lily frowned at her. Snape shot to his feet. "Her name is Lily _Evans_," he hissed. "She doesn't even like _Potter_." He spat the surname as if it were toxic. His pale skin was drawn, flushed with anger.

"I'm sorry?" Ginny managed.

"Well, you should be," Lily said. "James is a dickhead and petty bully. He flouts around the school like he's God's gift to the universe, but honestly he's not that impressive. Even if he does have a smile that would melt stone."

Ginny stood up, nodding in wordless agreement. "True, true," she heard herself saying. "I must be going now, so if you'll excuse me. Evans. Snape." She nodded to both of them and stepped back into the hallway, closing the door solidly behind her.

At this rate she was going to have to spend the rest of the train ride locked in a bathroom stall just so she wouldn't have to deal with anymore unexpected conversations and dead people revived. If they were revived.

She opened another train car and stared hard at the occupants. Three young women glanced at her. The one closest to her had straight chocolate brown hair and matching eyes. The one furthest away was tall and thin with pale blonde hair neatly coifed and cornflower blue eyes. The one in the middle was a freaking lunatic with untamed black hair, snow white skin, and soulless black eyes. Ginny would never forget those eyes. Just the day before she'd dueled the woman. A jet of green light from the woman's wand had come within millimeters of ending her life. Bellatrix Lestrange. Voldemort's lovestruck and most loyal lieutenant.

Ginny didn't want to be afraid, but she was. Her mouth was dry, palms sweaty, knees shaking. "Bellatrix," she breathed, taking an involuntary step away. She fumbled, reaching for her wand.

"What is it, Weasley?" the dark witch drawled. "You have something to say to me?" She threw back her head and cackled. "That would be something, wouldn't it?" Bellatrix dropped her head forward, chin dipped and all traces of mirth suddenly gone. "I heard from a wee little birdy that you've been a bad, bad girl," she cooed. "You were making fun of Lucius's mini-sized brother."

Ginny finally got her hand around her wand, but she didn't dare draw it. Bellatrix watched her with a predator's eyes. Ginny cast a silent spell to close the door and flung herself to the right to avoid any spells. Inside she could hear Bellatrix laughing manically, saying "Did you see her face? Her freckles were turning white!"

Ginny didn't care. She was too afraid to care really. She ran to the end of the train without bothering to look in the other cars. She skirted around the trolley witch and at last reached the last car. She risked a glance behind her and spotted the Lestrange brothers heading in her direction. At least she assumed they were the Lestrange brothers. The taller one appeared to be Bellatrix's husband. She yanked open the last car and prayed no one too scary would be in there.

Inside she saw to her palpable relief the familiar dragon fang earring Bill had been wearing for years. With nowhere else left to run, she stepped in and closed the door. She sat down weakly beside him, thankful that at the very least, Bill was still older than her and he still had that too-cool look. A Headboy badge was pinned to the front of his robes. She leaned against him, closing her eyes. "Hiya, Bill," she said, sniffing. "Life sucks."

"Right," Bill said awkwardly. "Uhmm . . . Ginny maybe you should wait outside. I'm kinda of talking with MacNair right now."

Ginny rolled her eyes up to look at him. She was going to develop a stomach ulcer before they got to Hogwarts. "Really? MacNair? Seriously? The Death Eater MacNair?" She groaned and flung her arms around him in a frustrated hug. "How could you be friends with him?" Voice muffled, she added, "Are you friends with him?"

"Yeah, I think we are," Bill said. Then he froze, picking something out of her words even as she was ending the hug and starting to leave the car. "Wait a second, Ginny."

"Wait for what?" She had one hand on the handle and was about to leave.

Bill looked at her suspiciously. "Do you . . . know?"

"Know?" she repeated.

MacNair shifted. He had spiky black hair and the shadow of a beard on his face. He was tall and overly muscular. His silver and green tie was hanging loosely over his shoulder. He didn't look much like a Death Eater. At least not in his haunted looking eyes. "Do you know that _time_ is wrong?"

She rubbed her forehead. "Time is wrong?" she echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Does anything about today seem weird to you?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said dryly, moving her hand and leaning against the door.

"Tell me the weirdest thing," Bill ordered. "The most different thing you can think of."

She stared at him. "Where to start? I have younger brothers. Lily Potter hates James and isn't even a Potter. Harry is eleven. Snape isn't the potions master. Bellatrix is . . . she's back that way." She paused. "And that's just the start of it."

Bill looked pleasantly surprised. "Okay, somehow it didn't affect you either." He tapped his fingers against his leg like he often did when deep in thought.

MacNair's head was tilted to the side. "That must be why she's older," he said at least. "The spell couldn't affect her age because she didn't lose her memory."

"I don't know," Bill mused. "I'm certainly younger." Almost unconsciously he touched his face where the werewolf-wizard Greyback had mauled him in Ginny's Fifth Year. His scars were gone.

"I got turned back to seventeen too," MacNair acknowledged. "But maybe the spell works different on girls."

"What spell?" Ginny asked, looking between her brother and the Death Eater.

Bill suppressed an eye roll. "First off it isn't a spell. It's just magic. I don't know how to explain that better in a way that you'll understand, but just know that it didn't take a wand to make this mess. It took old elemental-like magic. Second, I think the magic affects girls exactly the same way that it affects men. So something else must have spared Ginny's memory and her age."

"You're probably right," MacNair said. To Ginny he explained, "Your brother experimented with Druid magic while he was working for Gringotts to break into a magical vault in Scotland. My father was a druid before he died and he taught me a bit as well. We're assuming that the Druid training spared our memories even if it didn't spare our bodies."

"I've never heard of Druids before," Ginny said. "What are they?"

"Magical muggles," Bill said. "So if you didn't practice Druid magic it has to be something else." He tapped his fingers faster, thoughts racing. "If you had to guess what it would be what would you say?"

"And before you answer, here's another question," MacNair added, "Do you think that you'd be willing to help us save the earth from the Dark Lord?"

"Did he do this?" Ginny asked, completely bewildered. "Is this some way for him to try and kill Harry – "

"We'll have to tell her," Bill said to MacNair, cutting her off. "You'll have to tell her. I took an Unbreakable Oath not to betray it."

MacNair was nodding. He popped one leg onto the seat, wrapping his arms around it and resting his chin on his knee. "It's like this, Miss Weasley," he started. "My da taught me some druid magic and concepts before he passed away. Then I became a Death Eater, well, not right away but eventually. I pretty much ignored my druid background, but when Lord Volde-" He cut himself off with a grimace. "When that dirty old bastard died I realized that he wasn't going alone. He was so corrupt that his – I don't know, essence maybe? – was polluting the soul of the earth. It would have destroyed everything. So I opened the White Gate."

"White Gate?"

"It's a portal of sorts that links the past with the present and the future. I don't know how it works really, but I can tell you that this was not supposed to happen. I wanted to travel into the past. Same age, same skills, same knowledge. I got the same knowledge and skills, but my age changed."

"Tell her the rest," Bill said quietly.

MacNair shifted uncomfortably. "The thing is I fucked up. I opened the White Gate wrong. Time spiraled out of control and warped back around on itself. Think of every year, every minute like it is a layer on a cake." He paused waiting for her to say something.

"That's a lot of layers," Ginny said.

He nodded in agreement. "What I did was the equivalent of running a steam roller over time. I squashed the minutes of the present with some minutes of the past and now here we are in the new now. This new time is somewhere between here and then. Here being the Final Battle at Hogwarts when I opened the Gate. That's the last moment for Bill and me and probably for you too."

"Can it be reversed?"

Bill shook his head. MacNair explained that he simply didn't have the skill to do it. "Neither of us know any real trained druids either," Bill added, "But even if we did, I can assure you that they would not tamper with this further. We're stuck in this time," he said. "This is reality now and forever."

"Okay," Ginny said slowly. "So we just have to forget the future/past?"

Bill shook his head, dragon fang earring dancing with the motion. "No. We've decided that we have to complete MacNair's mission. Voldemort isn't dead. He hasn't risen to power yet. We can save a lot of lives if we do this right and even if we fail it can't be worse than what happened the first time."

"You want my help?"

"I hate to involve you," Bill said. "But the more hands on board the better. Voldemort could even be here, you know," he added. "At the school. Or he could be out there already 100% corrupt, planning to destroy everything."

Ginny was nodding but she felt lightheaded. "Just . . . just give me a second," she said. "I need to moment." She pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, taking a couple deep gulps of air. She became aware, almost painfully slowly, that someone was walking down the hall toward her.

It was a painfully handsome young man with black robes, a Slytherin tie, a Head boy badge and perfect white teeth. She knew his face better than she knew her own. He had the start of a slow, knowing smile. The charismatic demon from the diary, her _Dear Tom_. "There you are," he said softly. "I was beginning to think you were ignoring me."

If Ginny had been afraid of Bellatrix she was petrified with fear now, too afraid to even tremble. The Slytherin drew her into a cool embrace, rubbing her back in a familiar comforting motion. Ginny felt a chill descend over her heart. She wasn't some hopelessly romantic eleven year old anymore and the illusory promise of warmth from his arms held no sway.

He pulled back, brushing a kiss across her forehead. "Change into your robes, dear Ginny," he murmured. "We're almost to Hogwarts." He caressed her cheek with fake adoration before walking away. As he reached the connecting car he glanced back and winked before vanishing into the next car.

Ginny was still standing there shock still when Bill popped the door open to check on her. Her skin was sheet white. "You okay? You look like you saw a ghost?"

"It was him," she said. "Tom Riddle. He called me 'dear Ginny' and kissed me forehead and hugged me." A stillness settled over her features. "Why did he do that? What does he want?"

Bill and MacNair exchanged looks, but it was clear they had no idea. Ginny's mind flashed reluctantly on her precious Tom Riddle. Down in the dark of the Chamber of Secrets as he started spilling from the pages of the diary. She had been so cold and weak. Her voice so afraid as she called to him for help and was met only with a high cold laugh. Bill touched her shoulder, his warm skin like fire against her numb flesh. How could this be happening?


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I just wanted to say thanks to those reading and especially those leaving reviews. I'm not very good at British slang so it always feels cheap when I try to insert it. If anyone has suggestions on how to make the dialogue seem more English and less American let me know. Also, does anyone have any feelings one way or the other way on the chapter length? They're tending to be a bit longer than I normally like. I know some people like shorter chapters? Is that something that those of you reading would prefer or is the length good as is? Let me know. Also, please review. It makes me very happy!

**Chapter Three: The Sorting**

It was raining when they arrived at Hogwarts. The castle was highlighted against brilliant flashes of lightning. Over the roar of the wind, Hagrid's voice could be hear hollering for the "Firs' Years" to follow him to the boats. Apparently he was still the Gamekeeper. Ginny watched Harry and Ron and Hermione and Neville climb into the same boat. She though briefly of her own first year when Colin Creevy had fallen into the lake and was rescued by the Giant Squid. She hadn't seen Creevy, so she supposed that he was going to be coming next year.

She ducked her head against the wind and headed for the carriages alone. Bill thought it would be better if they got an idea what each of their new "histories" were before they started randomly hanging out together. As much as possible he didn't want to draw attention to the fact that they were different. Especially if Voldemort wasn't mentally affected. They still had no idea if he had his memories and was simply biding his time.

The thestrals pulling the carriages snorted and stomped their feet impatiently. Ginny shivered. This was her first time actually seeing them. Before she'd had to rely on her imagination and the description from Harry and Luna. She accidentally made eye contact with one of the winged, skeletal horses. But there wasn't time to be startled so she settled for a little gasp and then caught the hand rail outside the carriage and hoisted herself in.

With a huge stab of annoyance and trepidation she realized she'd picked the same carriage that James Potter had picked. He slid over, making room on the seat beside him. "Done being mad then?" James asked lightly.

Ginny forced a smile. "Mad? Me? I don't think I was mad. Annoyed a bit maybe, but it's not your fault."

James inclined his head slightly. "Good. I'm glad you're not mad. I've given it a lot of thought and I couldn't imagine a single thing that I'd personally done to you that would piss you off. We've never been on a date, I've never hexed or cursed you, and I've never even talked to you outside of class before." He folded his hands behind his head, looking casual. "Matter of fact, I've hardly even noticed you before today, Ginny. You must have done a lot of growing up over the summer."

"Growing up?"

One of the others in the carriage coughed into his fist, drawing her attention to him. "James means you've developed . . . assets," he said, making a curving motion with his hands that was meant to indicate she had better breasts and hips than she had had the year before. Ginny blinked at him.

It was Sirius Black for certain. She recognized his voice. When she'd first known him his voice was rougher, worn by twelve hard years in Azkaban followed by a few haphazard years on the Ministry's most wanted list. But it still had that lilt to it that said he was up to no good and proud of it. Sirius Black had a rich, smooth voice that was meant for darkened bedrooms. She'd always thought that about his voice. But when they'd met she'd been a silly fourteen year old girl and he was thirty-seven. So the fantasy of his voice had never mattered. It mattered now. Not to mention that he didn't _look_ like a thirty-seven year old going on fifty due to the hardships of his post-Hogwarts years. He looked like the drop dead gorgeous heartthrob that she'd been told he was before Lily and James were murdered.

The other marauders were in the carriage too. Remus Lupin was slender as a willow wand, with pale scars adorning his forehead, and slightly tattered robes drawn close. He watched her with calm blue eyes. Wormtail was there too. Or at least Ginny supposed it was Wormtail. It was the same blond boy that had been with James at King's Cross and on the train. His watery, ratlike eyes followed her, his mouth slightly agape as he waited for the cues to laugh or insult on James and Sirius's command. Which begged the question about who the hell Scabbers was. Unless there were two Pettigrews?

She rubbed her forehead with one hand, feeling the onslaught of a tension headache. Only a moment had passed since Sirius had commented on her assets. "Oh yeah," Ginny said, focusing on James. "That's right. I grew _assets_ over the summer and you are apparently still a bloody juvenile." She mock winched. "As for approaching you earlier, I was just trying to confuse you. I didn't think it would be _quite_ that easy, but there you have it. You're easy, Potter. Like pie." The sharp tone was natural for her. She'd learned not to give much ground when dealing with her classmates. And Bill had told her to act natural and disown anything odd that she'd done earlier.

Sirius lunged across the seat, wedging himself between her and the edge of the carriage, sandwiching her between James and himself. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his muscular side. With his freed hand he mused her hair vigorously. "Ahh . . . look at you," he cooed. "Trying to mess with James. Did you forget he doesn't travel alone?"

Ginny ignored the fluttering feeling in her stomach. Sirius's voice in Sirius's younger more attractive body was presenting something of an embarrassingly physical reaction. She focused on the words, which she recognized as mocking.

A long time ago she'd stalked Harry. It's been because she was trying to figure out how to make him fall in love with her so she felt it was justified. She'd overheard him talking to Ron and Hermione about his father and Sirius. He told them that they were bullies. Lily's reaction in the carriage earlier seemed to reaffirm that belief. Ginny had this idea that if she didn't do something quick James and Sirius (and Peter and Lupin by default) were going to harass her the rest of her time at Hogwarts. She needed to make him understand that she was on the same level as they were and was, therefore, not to be harassed.

So she popped up and rolled on top of him, straddling his legs and slamming her hands against the wall on either side of his head. "Sirius Black," she drawled, enjoying the way his eyes widened. She leaned forward, tilting her head to the side as if she was going to kiss him. When her lips were a mere inch away she whispered in her best seductive voice, "I'd never forget who keeps James on his leash." And she kissed him. Brushed her lips against his in a tantalizing, teasing almost kiss. The carriage lurched to a stop, and she spun off of him, opening the door and stepping into the rain-soaked night. "Later boys," she said, giving mocking wave.

Her heart was pounding loud, but she heard, Sirius mutter a belated 'wait.' Of course, that just wasn't going to happen. She had a boyfriend already: Harry Potter. Of course, when he stepped off the boat in all his eleven-year-old glory, she realized that life had gotten much more complicated since yesterday. And yesterday had been bad, what with Voldemort attacking the school and all.

"Bloody hell," she muttered.

Somewhere to her left, Riddle stepped out of his carriage, Bellatrix clinging to his arm and cackling about something. Snape and Lucius debarked as well, both of them looking every bit as nauseating evil as usual. Riddle caught her watching and tilted his head toward her, his stupid lovely smile lighting up the dark.

She looked away and let the press of wet students pull her forward. Bloody hell indeed.

The teachers of Hogwarts sat at the head table. She felt relieved to recognize most of them. There was the no-longer-murdered Headmaster Albus Dumbledore wearing periwinkle robes, his silvery beard tucked into his belt, his half-moon glasses perched on his crooked nose. He was laughing merrily with Professor McGonagall, who was wearing emerald green robes, her black hair pulled in a severe bun that made her look crosser than usual. Sitting in Snape's usual spot was Professor Slughorn, his great mustache drooping like walrus tusks on either side of his pudgy face. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and Trelawny were there too. But that was the end of familiar faces. Ginny wondered which of the new faces was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and if he or she knew that the position was cursed.

"Hey Ginny," Sirius said, catching her elbow and steering her into a seat beside him. "That was a dirty little trick." The rain made his hair look devilishly tousled and cute and she did not want to sit with him.

Ginny made eye contact with Charlie and he came over frowning, Fred and George right with him. "Something wrong here?" he asked giving James and Sirius a dirty look.

"Nope," Ginny chirped. "I was just wondering if I could sit with you guys."

"Course," Fred said. "I can't just leave my older sister with the notorious –"

"Infamous, really," George interrupted.

"Sirius Black," Fred concluded. "Just wouldn't be right." They took Ginny to another section of the Gryffindor table. Fred rubbed his hands together, Sirius already forgotten, "I can't wait to see Ron's face when he realizes he doesn't have to wrestle a troll."

"You told him that?" Charlie said, sounding amazed.

"Yep," both twins said at the same time.

"And he believed you?"

"Yep."

Charlie shook his head. "Unbelievable."

Ginny believed it. They'd told her the same thing when she came to Hogwarts. She was wondering how the Sorting was going to go and if the Sorting Hat would sing the same song or not when a piece of white paper crumbled into a ball and jinxed to hit her connected with her forehead. She seized the paper and looked around quickly, expecting that it had come from Bill or MacNair.

Instead she made direct eye contact with Sirius Black. His eyes glittered, a handsome grin stretching across his face. A handsome, _suggestive_ grin. He was going to be trouble. He mouthed that she should open it.

She glanced at the paper and then back at him. _Never_, she mouthed back. She dropped the paper into her empty goblet. Well, almost. She tucked it up her sleeve at the last possible second, but from the distance he was at it would probably look like she was going to let the message get doused with whatever drink she put in it.

He frowned. James punched his arm, laughing. He was amused by her. Sirius wasn't. That didn't look like a good combination.

She picked up her fork, twirling it absently. Whatever was she going to do? Maybe she should have played submissive in the carriage. It was seeming like a bad impulse decision to kiss Sirius. Maybe she could apologize?

The First Years were escorted in. She listened to Professor McGonagall calling the roll. A good number of the First Years used to be a year older than her. When Harry's name was called, she expected some sort of reaction from the students, but besides Fred asking whether Harry was James's little brother, there wasn't a hint of his famousness anywhere. So much for being the Boy-Who-Lived. He was sorted into Gryffindor as was proper. He sat beside James, who gave him an encouraging smile.

And after Ron was sorted (near last) and Dumbledore summoned the feast (always excellent looking), Ginny forgot about her recently acquired Sirius problem and focused on eating. She was in mid-bite when another note zipped toward her, skimmed her cheek and landed beside her plate.

She rolled her eyes. "Really? You're going to be like that, Black," she muttered. She seized the letter and unfolded it without looking at him. She was going to read it, pretend to be nonchalant and unimpressed no matter what it said, and then give him a look telling him he was pitiful.

Except the letter wasn't from Sirius this time. She read:

_My beloved dear Ginny_,

_You seem to be a bit distracted today. I hope that you're not upset with me. I've enjoyed writing you over the summer. Your words are so soulful and heartfelt. Even though we have not had much opportunity to fornicate in past years I wish to change that. Meet me in the girls' bathroom on the second floor. There is something I think you'll enjoy seeing._

_Love,_

_Tom Marvolo Riddle_

"Oh . . ." she breathed. He was talking about the Chamber of Secrets, wasn't he? "George, can you look about and tell me where Bill is?" she asked, not wanting to risk making eye contact with Riddle.

George, mid-mouthful, scanned the room. "Our side of the table, nine people down," he said. "Why?"

Ginny didn't answer. She kept her head down and made for her older brother. As she passed Sirius, he deliberately leaned back so she had to brush against him.

"Hey Ginny," he said smoothly, "Does the Head Boy know his girl stole a kiss from me?"

She stopped cold, not caring that his back was touching her. "Riddle is a . . ." she debated several ways to end that sentence. "I am _not_ his girl and if you tell anyone I am I'll . . ." She didn't finish that sentence either.

Sirius's laugher followed her the rest of the way to Bill. He'd been watching her approach and took the letter without a word when she arrived. He read it quickly. Paused. Read it again. Then swore and reached for his wand.

"Wait," she squeaked. "It'll draw attention." She buried her face in her hands, sobbing unwillingly. "I'm afraid I might be . . . might be his girlfriend." Her shoulders shook.

Bill helped her sit down and patted her shoulders. "It's all right," he said. "We'll figure this out."

Ginny sniffed. "It would make sense, you know. I did think I loved him when I was writing in the diary." She sniffed again.

"Last I heard you were dating Harry," Bill retorted. "So if anyone should be your boyfriend now, it should be him or no one. It's not fair otherwise."

At that moment Harry was using his nose and a straw to blow bubbles in his pumpkin juice. She sobbed and hiccupped at the same time, making a pathetic noise as a result. "If I'm with Riddle it is over. O-V-E-R. Done. I can't even pretend. No way I'm staying with him."

Bill agreed, but warned that she would have to be extra careful. They both knew what kind of person he was or was likely going to be. He leaned a bit closer and added that they should drop the conversation now. People weren't really paying attention, but it wasn't something they wanted to get overheard.

As if to emphasize the point, Oliver Wood interjected himself into their conversation by plopping down across from them. "So Weasley," he said. "I heard you might be interested in trying out for the House team this year."

"Me?" Bill said. "You heard wrong. I've got the same skill at quidditch as Snape does at bathing."

Ginny and several other nearby Gryffindors sniggered at the comparison. Wood just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I was aware of that," he said. "I was talking to Ginny."

"Quidditch?" Ginny said. "Yeah, I think I'll be trying out. I like playing. Who else do you think will be there?" she added, hoping to get a jump-start idea on what the quidditch team of her new reality would look like. Hopefully it would be people she liked.

But as it turned out the makeup of the team was mostly undecided. Wood was the captain and keeper. Wood added that Fred and George were the "bludgers, oops I meant beaters" and James Potter was the only returning chaser. So Wood was looking for two chasers and a seeker, although he suspected he could lure Charlie back as seeker even if the man was wandering around like someone killed his kitten.

"Interesting," Ginny said. "Who do you think will tryout?"

"Not sure, but I heard Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell were thinking about it."

"Who did you hear that from?"

"Oh no one," he said. "I've just been checking around. Scouting for talent. I think the three of you would make a good addition to the team."

"The team with only two spots open?" Bill inquired.

Wood shrugged. "Who knows. I think we need more females on the team, so I'd like it if you'd show up and put in a genuine effort."

"Sure," Ginny said. "I'll be there."

He grinned and headed off to talk with Alicia Spinnet who was talking with Seamus Finnigan. He was her age now or closer to it than Harry and Ron in any event.

"Ginny?" Bill asked quietly. "Everything okay for now?"

"Yeah, for now" she said. "I think that I might have to break up with my boyfriend though." She stood up and walked over to Harry and Ron who were sitting within spitting distance of the Marauders.

"Hey, Ginny," Ron said. He motioned at Harry. "This is Harry Potter."

"Hullo," Harry said, offering her his hand.

Ginny shook it, a sad feeling building inside her. She'd had a crush on him for the last six years, and now, staring at him, it was just nothing. He was an eleven year old boy and definitely too young. "I'm glad to see Ron's found a new friend," she said. "I was worried about him."

"Oy!" Ron yelped. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," she said. "Do you guys mind if I finish dinner over here? Fred and George are belching."

"You sure you want to sit here?" Remus asked. He was sitting beside James.

She looked at him, and smiled. "I'll be okay, Pro – Lupin," she said. This was going to be hard. But she did need to say good-bye to Harry even if it was in the guise of saying hello for the first time.

Much later, after dinner and desert and after Dumbledore gave his customary litany of rules and suggestions for the new term, and after they'd sung the Hogwarts theme song, and after he'd bid them all a lovely night filled with pleasant dreams, after all that Ginny was finally on her way to the Gryffindor common room. And she was more than ready to get a good night's sleep. She walked with the Marauders out of necessity. Percy had rounded up Harry, Ron, and the rest of the first years and hustled them away before she even had time to think.

As they followed the familiar pathways, she was thinking about Riddle and her appointment with him when suddenly she was whisked into an empty classroom.

James closed the door. Sirius leaned against the wall. Outside, Remus gave a startled yelp. Then quickly tapped on the door. "You two are going to get us all in trouble," he complained. "Just because she kissed Sirius doesn't mean anything."

"She didn't kiss him," James said. "She _stole_ a kiss from him."

Ginny looked at Sirius, who gave her a puppy dog look. Like she really had stolen something from him. His fake wounded look was cute actually. "Oh no," she said. "You're not going to make me pay for that are you?"

"Did you hear that, Remus?" James hollered through the door. "She doesn't even sound remotely repentant."

Sirius moved from the wall, strolling toward her. He looked like a predator, muscles rolling with his movement. His aura was all dangerous. In a playful way. "I think someone owes me a kiss, eh?" he said, catching her chin and tilting it up. His lips looked sensuous, ready to be kissed.

Ginny felt a bit of her worries slipping away. She could play tease better than most. She popped up on her tiptoes, stealing another quick kiss from Sirius Black. "Huh," she said, dancing out of his reach. "I guess that makes it _two_ kisses I've taken from your unsuspecting lips."

His jaw dropped. "Now hold on a second –"

"Make me," she teased. She placed her hand on the wall by the chalk board, and pressed it in just the right spot to make the passage open. She ducked through and took off running before either of the handsome young men could stop her. She thought that it was a little ironic that the only reason she knew about the passage was because of Fred and George and the only reason they knew about the passage was because of the Marauders Map which they had made.

She made it to Gryffindor tower just in time to slip in with the First Years. Apparently the password was _Fiddlesticks_. She hoped James and Sirius missed the memo. It would serve them right to spend the night dodging Filch. Well, if Filch was still at the school. She realized with a start that she hadn't seen him yet. Did Dumbledore mention him in the speech? She couldn't remember.

But that was a worry for the next day. There was a large gathering of students in the Common Room, but she bypassed it and popped up the stairs two at a time to her room. There were the five four-poster beds draped with red curtains tied open with gold cords. All of them were unoccupied. Her trunk was, thankfully, at the foot of the bed by the window. The same bed she'd used to have.

She fell tried to fall asleep fretting about Riddle and the meeting she was missing. But just before she dozed off Sirius popped into her head and her dreams started pleasant even if they did descend into nightmares of strangled chickens and dead friends and murdered brothers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Sirius & Riddle**

Morning was a trying affair. Ginny woke up just before dawn in a cold sweat, her blankets tangled around her legs. Her flaming red hair was a snarled mess. She stumbled into the bath in a generally bad mood. She'd remembered that she had forgotten to meet Tom Riddle at the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets the night before. It wasn't that she _wanted_ to meet him. It was that she hadn't met him or made up an excuse and she didn't know how he would respond. He wasn't the kind of dark wizard a young witch wanted to piss off.

Her attitude hadn't improved by the time she got out of the shower. She dragged a brush through her hair, winching as it caught on the tangles. Her timetable was written in bright green ink. First up was History of Magic, which was easily the most boring class.

She glanced at the other four beds in the room. Her roommates were all asleep and all new. She suppressed a snarl. Of course she had new roommates – her old ones were all probably ten years old and sitting at home with their parents. With a pang, she realized that the same fate had probably befallen Luna Lovegood, her best friend at the school.

Ginny was upset. She felt like someone had taken her world and scrambled it, but she was too proud to cry, so she figured she'd better just get on with it. At that moment one of her new roommates woke up. It was Lily Evans. This was a bit unexpected. Ginny kept thinking of Lily as Harry's dead mother and so seeing her stumble into the bathroom was a little disconcerting. Ginny decided she would be better off not sticking around so she dressed in her school uniform and headed towards the Common Room.

The school uniform was a bit different than before. It was a knee length charcoal grey skirt, a white blouse with a knit grey vest, a Gryffindor colored tie, and her usual black robes. Her robes and uniform bore the indicia of being second-hand, but she had gotten used to that ages ago.

Lupin was in a plush arm chair by the fire when she got downstairs. He had his History of Magic textbook balanced on the arm of the chair and was jotting down notes. Was there homework she didn't know about?

He looked up, smiling slightly and then returned to his notes. Ginny inched closer peering at the book. She tried to be discreet, but seeing as there was no one else in the large room, Lupin detected her almost immediately. He looked up again, this time a hint of a frown showing in his blue eyes. "Something I can help you with, Miss Weasley?" he asked coolly.

Ginny took the armchair across from him, tucking her legs underneath her. "Just wondering what you're doing, Lupin," she said. "Isn't it a little early in the term for homework?"

"It would seem that way," he agreed. "I prefer to get a jump on the set books though. I study better in the quiet." He fell silent. An unnatural stillness followed. Ginny was just about to leave when he spoke again. "Can I ask you a personal question, Miss Weasley?"

"Of course," she said a little too quickly. He'd always been one of her favorite professors. Probably because he'd never judged her about the Chamber of Secrets incident. Better than most people he knew what it was like to feel left out. It was because he was a werewolf. It was a secret that Snape had accidentally let slip to get Lupin sacked years into a future he wasn't going to have now. Or probably wouldn't have.

Lupin studied her thoughtfully. "Why did you kiss, Sirius?"

"Well, he is attractive," she said somewhat evasively. "And he was asking for it. Besides I wanted to show him that I'm not easily intimidated."

"I don't suppose you didn't consider that Sirius might consider it a challenge to make you repent?"

"Repent?"

He grimaced. "What I'm trying to suggest is that you apologize to him before class today, Miss Weasley. Preferably before he even leaves for breakfast. He won't forgive you outright but a bit of begging should –"

"Begging?"

Lupin looked pained. "Just a bit. And it'll be better for all of us in the end really. Sirius is –"

Ginny uncoiled from the armchair. "I'm going to breakfast now," she announced a bit louder and cooler than was polite. She walked away. She wasn't begging anyone.

A smattering of early rising students quietly ate breakfast. Ginny didn't see anyone she knew, but she decided to check anyway. At the Hufflepuff table she almost missed a familiar face because it looked so different. It was Nymphandora Tonks, a metamorphmagus who could transfigure parts of her body at will. Currently her hair was white blond and her eyes were ice blue.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Ginny asked. The last time she'd seen Tonks the auror had been dead. Murdered by Pius Thicknesse.

Tonks shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Ginny sat down. "I'm Ginny Weasley," she said introducing herself.

"I know," Tonks said. "We're in the same year, remember?" She twirled a lock of blond hair absently and it turned hot pink. "Ready for the term?"

"Not really," Ginny said.

Tonks stiffened. "There he is," she said under her breath, eyes fixated on the entrance. "Remus Lupin."

Lupin had entered with his friends. He nodded to Ginny and discreetly motioned with his gaze towards Sirius. He mouthed for her to talk with him, but Ginny deliberately looked away.

Tonks observed the exchange. She twirled her hair a bit tighter around her finger. "Seems you and Lupin are talkative this term," she noted. "That's my cousin, you know, sitting with him. Sirius Black. I could set up a meeting 'tween the two of you if you like."

Ginny blushed. "Not necessary. I'm not actually interested."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and I'm not interested in Remus Lupin." She drained her juice and stood up. "I'm not saying I'd do it for free, mind you, but when you want to go out with him you talk to me. If you do me a favor I'll do you one." She walked away.

There wasn't time to dwell on that particular offer. The rest of the students were arriving in droves. The excitement of the first day of classes was everywhere. Students talked in small and large groups, swapping timetables and horror stories about professors. Ginny listened, trying to pick out as many details to possible to help her blend in.

Then it was time for class. She walked with Lily Evans, who wanted to apologize for snapping at her on the train the day before. "Potter just makes me so angry," she explained. "And I know that Severus has issues . . . but he is still my friend . . ."

"You should tell your friend to stop playing with the Dark Arts," Ginny said. "Before it gets you both killed." Her tone was icy. She still hadn't forgiven Snape for being a bad headmaster and murdering Dumbledore.

"Snape would never do anything like that," Lily assured her. "He might like studying the Dark Arts, but it's only so that he can understand it better for defense. He wouldn't actually use any of those spells on anyone."

Ginny didn't believe that for a heartbeat. She let the subject drop as they entered History of Magic. Professor Binns was still the teacher. But there was one very important difference between the Binns she knew and the Binns in class. This one was still alive.

Not that it made any difference. She settled herself into a seat by the window and watched her classmates file in. Surprise number one was that Charlie was really in her year. He sat at the back of the classroom and started doodling on his parchment almost immediately. There was something off with him, more than the fact that he was sixteen again. Ginny couldn't quite put her finger on it.

She didn't get much chance to ponder it either because the Marauders arrived. Sirius took the chair next to hers, shooting her a challenging smile, his black eyes burning with mischief. James sat behind her, stretching his legs out in front of him and grinning like the devil.

Throughout class, James kept flicking the tip of her ear with his quill. Ginny was quite annoyed. When Binns dismissed the class, both Marauders stood simultaneously, blocking her into her seat. "Need help?" Sirius asked.

She looked at him in confusion. "Help with what?"

"Finding the words," he said.

"To apologize," James added. "We know Remus talked with you so you might as well get it over. It can be difficult to start. I suggest 'please, please forgive me.'"

Ginny shoved her books into her bag and stood up so that her body was practically touching Sirius. She only came up to the middle of his chest, which meant that eye contact was out of the question. She wasn't going to crane her neck just to meet his eyes. She put her hand in the center of Sirius's chest and gave a push against solid muscle. He hardly budged.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get this over."

The room was almost empty and Binns was gone. For an almost dead guy he moved fast. Ginny moved fast too. She spun away from him, hoisting herself onto her seat and then desk with a couple of steps. Now they were the ones looking up at her. She hopped across a couple of desks, landing in a clear aisle. "I have to get to my next class," she said and then headed out the door without looking back.

Her next class was transfiguration. She took a seat closer to the door so that she couldn't be blocked by the Marauders. James ignored her completely this time and sat near Lily. Sirius ignored her too, choosing to sit in front of her. Throughout class James tried to pass Lily notes without McGonagall noticing. Sirius took copious notes and hardly looked around.

McGonagall paired them off at the half-way mark to practice transfiguring round hand mirrors into long-stem roses – something particularly difficult because of the extremely different shapes of the objects. Ginny was paired with Sirius, but to her surprise he didn't make any snide comments or try to make her apologize at all.

It turned out that he had a mind for transfiguration. He was lightyears ahead of almost everyone else in the class (the exception being James Potter, who seemed to have a knack for the subject). When Ginny's rose petals continued to show a reflection of the young witch, Sirius quietly directed her how to turn the petals red and non-reflective. By the end of class she had gotten the petals properly transfigured and she figured that whatever tiff she was having with Sirius was over.

But when McGonagall dismissed the class, Sirius leaned toward her and licked her lips before tucking his transfigured rose into her hair. "H-hey," she stammered.

His black eyes glinted at his success and while she was still sputtering, he kissed her softly on her lips. "More of that later, if you don't apologize," he told her. He went to talk to McGonagall, preventing her from responding.

Ginny left class in a hurry. The trouble was she wasn't sure if that was supposed to encourage her to apologize or not?

Lunch was its own disaster. She'd hardly gotten to the Great Hall when Tom Riddle captured her by her elbow and escorted her to a table filled with future (or maybe current?) death eaters. "Everyone this is Ginny Weasley," he said. "She's mine and not to be touched, understood?" His voice was smooth and hard as steel.

"She's a blood-traitor," a smarmy looking boy with dark blue eyes said.

Riddle glowered at him. "Watch your language, Crouch," he said. "I just told you that she is mine. Even blood-traitors can have pureblood babies." He slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side and kissing her cheek.

There was rancorous laughter from the Death Eaters. Ginny gave them a pained smile and tried to get Riddle's arm away from her waist. In response his grip tightened, fingers digging into her rib cage with bruising force. He leaned toward her, whispering "If you know what is good for you you'll stop your pathetic attempts to . . . slither away." Her nipped her ear lobe for good measure, biting down hard enough to cause pain.

"Lord Vol –" Bellatrix said, voice quiet but forceful. "The Weasley girl is a nothing. There are others worthier." It was plain that she meant herself.

Riddle caught Ginny's chin with his free hand, forcing her to look at him. "There are those more beautiful and talented, but that's not what I'm looking for. I'm looking for a _soul_mate and Ginny's soul is just so . . . useful."

His eyes were like black buttons boring into her. With a start she realized that he was about to try to probe her mind. Which would be useless. In fact, she'd gone through some lengths to ensure that no one would ever be reading her mind or possessing her again. It was more than just occlumency skills, although she had taken private lessons with Dumbledore's permission from Snape from her Second Year until her Fifth. She'd also taken a page out of the Marauders book and dabbled with advanced magic. Potions. She'd located a complicated draught in her Fourth Year and brewed it in the Chamber of Secrets. The potion made it impossible for anyone to read her mind, or control her mind, or force her to tell the truth. It had a useful side effect too. It made created the illusion that whatever mind invasion was occurring was working.

Riddle smiled soothingly at her brushing her bangs from her eyes. "Don't be afraid, dear Ginny," he said. "I'm not going to rape you. Nothing that crude. You're going to surrender yourself to me. Body and _soul_." He went to kiss her. Unlike the kiss from Sirius, Riddle's kiss left her cold and feeling like she'd swallowed acid. His lips were soft and pliant, his tongue quick and warm. While he kissed her he dug his fingers in harder, making her squirm with pain.

The death eaters at the table stared, some in slack jawed amazement. Riddle had never shown any interest in girls before, and for him to take an interest in a Gryffindor blood-traitor instead of a loyal Slytherin like Bellatrix or Narcissa seemed incomprehensible.

Thankfully for Ginny, Bill chose that moment to arrive. When he saw her kissing Riddle he barely suppressed the urge to hex the Head Boy into Aruba. Instead he strolled over and wretched her out of his arms. She gasped in pain because Riddle had decided to grab and pinch her skin as she was pulled away. Bill didn't bother saying anything to Riddle. He just hauled her out of the Great Hall without a word.

They went to the Room of Requirement. "Wanna explain what was going on?" Bill asked.

Ginny looked pale and shaky. She first went and threw up in a bathroom (apparently she'd been thinking she needed a place to vomit when they were heading to the room). She threw up until there was nothing but bile and tears. Bill handed her a wet cloth and she scrubbed her face clean.

"Well?" he prompted.

"He told them that I was his and we were going to have babies. Lestrange, er, Bellatrix Black I guess, she started to call him Lord Voldemort." Her side hurt where Riddle had been clutching her. She lifted her shirt enough to see five perfect bruises in the shape of his fingers. "Bill, what are we going to do?"

He shook his head mutely. "I have no idea." He dragged his hands across his face. "I suppose we'll have to stick with the main plan. Stop everything that we know about his rise to power from happening. It seems like he's already got his Death Eaters lined up and like he might know about the Chamber of Secrets."

"Has he opened it yet?"

"No," Bill said. "I talked with Moaning Myrtle earlier today and she's alive. Still it seems likely that he's going to use the Chamber eventually."

"I remember how to get in," Ginny said. "Not that it helps much. Without parseltongue controlling the basilisk is impossible."

Bill looked thoughtful. "We don't have to control it," he said with a sly grin. "All we have to do is kill it."

Ginny thought he was joking and laughed, but when she realized he was serious she sputtered like Ron. "It'll be incredibly dangerous, Bill. You haven't seen this thing, it's _huge_. It's got fangs as long as am tall and thicker. If you make indirect eye contact you're petrified and if you make direct eye contact you're dead. Get it, dead!"

Bill nodded. "Yeah, I get it. I'll have to do some research on fighting basilisk. It's not like it's never been done before. I think we went over it in our N.E.W.T preparation my first time here. And Ben the Batty transfigured himself into a vampire bat so he could pluck out a basilisk's eyes using sonar."

"So the plan is to turn into bats?"

"The plan is to study the approach discreetly and then take action." He tapped her nose. "And you need to keep a lot of non-Death Eater attention on yourself. I'm thinking detentions would be a good start," he added, but only with the professors that like to keep you under their thumb throughout the detention, not with the professors that farm you out to Filch. It'd be too likely you'd get stuck in a dark room scrubbing trophies."

"Great. So I get to get frequent detentions and negative attention. Mum's gonna kill me."

"She'll be happy when we explain that Riddle was going to force himself on you or spell you to go with him."

"More like she'd just snipe that I should have gone to Madam Pomfrey for a chastity potion." Ginny paused, locking eyes with Bill. "Which I could still do."

He arched an eyebrow. "A chastity potion?"

"It makes it so you can't, you know, engage in those types of relations. It's wicked complicated, but I bet I could convince her to prescribe it."

Bill looked skeptical. "Let's do that in addition to my plan," he said. "Voldemort might want more than sex and there are ways to, ah, impregnate women without . . . those relations. Just steer clear of him and whatever you do try not to let him touch you, get his hands on any hairs, or put anything in your food or drink. Best take a page from Moody and drink from a hip flask and take your meals in the kitchen with the house elves."

Ginny agreed. Then, realizing that they were both late for their afternoon classes, the two siblings exited the Room of Requirement and hurried to their classes.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Severus Snape**

Ginny didn't think she would be able to focus in Herbology, but Professor Sprout quickly had her full attention. They were in Greenhouse 6 which was full of wild looking vines, shrubs, and grasses. Sprout, a dumpy little witch with flyaway hair and dirty fingernails, started class with a reminder that most of the plants in this greenhouse could kill them – possibly faster than she could recognize the danger and rescue them. "This term will be dangerous," she warned. "But seeing as how you're all O.W.L. level students, I expect that you'll all come out of this class alive and with an appreciation for growing things."

Once she was sure that she had the students undivided attention, Sprout smiled kindly. Ginny let out a breath she hadn't been holding. Sprout didn't usually go for the scare tactics in class.

Sprout glanced at the assembled students. "Who can tell me the differences between grass and quickgrass?"

Lily raised her hand.

"Evans."

"Quickgrass is just like regular grass except it is always a vibrant too-perfect green. If you see a yard with grass that seems too perfect, it is likely quickgrass, which is a carnivorous plant along the lines of devil's snare."

"Excellent," Sprout said. "Take three points for your house." She then launched into a detailed explanation about the carnivorous grass, explaining how it would surge up and entangle anyone foolish enough to walk on it.

Everyone had to take out their Herbology guidebooks and start an entry on quickgrass. Apparently they had been working on the guidebook since First Year and it contained detailed entries for each of the plants they had ever worked with, complete with illustrations. At the end of each Year they had to turn their book over to Sprout who would grade it for extra credit. She reminded the class that they could copy their drawings of the plants and the information about them from their text-books if they wanted to redo the project. At the end of class she instructed them to write an essay on the properties of quickgrass and research ways to escape it without harming the grass. She warned them that in the next class they would be expected to practice what they had discovered.

As they left the greenhouse and headed to Care of Magical Creatures (doubles with Hufflepuff), Ginny couldn't help but notice that the classes were more intense then she remembered. And this was her second time in Sixth Year. It should have been a breeze!

The Care of Magical Creatures class was further proof that this blended timeline Hogwarts didn't tolerate half-planned lessons. Ginny had studied Care of Magical Creatures for three years with Hagrid. It was typically a boring class punctuated by a few minutes of abject terror induced by Hagrid's confident streaks which were populated by charming creatures like Blast-ended skrewts. Hagrid wasn't the teacher anymore. Instead a dashing wizard with numerous scars on his face and arms directed them to a paddock containing two horses that appeared to have flames instead of fur.

"Firemanes," Sirius said with a low whistle.

"What are those?" Ginny asked, moving closer to him and eyeing the horses cautiously.

"They're incredibly rare," he told her unhelpfully.

The professor opened the paddock, motioning the students through, and then locking them in. He didn't introduce himself – probably because he'd been teaching the students for three years – but Ginny quickly learned that his name was Carlos Santos. He explained that firemanes were almost extinct, but he'd managed to procure a pair on loan from the London Magical Zoo. He split the class into two groups: boys and girls. "We're going to have a competition," he explained. The goal of each group is to get a rider onto the firemane. Now, who can tell me the danger of riding a firemane?"

"The danger would be, ah, the danger of burning, your, uhm, crotch," James said, causing laughter from most of the class.

"Correct. Take ten points for your house, Potter." Santos locked eyes with Ginny. "Weasley, what are the benefits of riding a firemane?"

Considering she'd never heard of them before, the answer was easy. "I don't know . . ."

"Anyone else have an answer that shows at least a basic attempt at comprehending the holiday reading?"

Sirius grinned at Ginny. "It makes you a genius," he said. "Temporarily."

"Exactly," Santos said. He then explained that the Zoo had loaned the firemanes because the mare was in heat. Firemanes would only mate after a witch rode the mare and a wizard rode the stallion. But they were extremely picky about who they would let ride them. As a result, the class got the chance to become temporary geniuses and in the process they'd be possibly helping the magical horses to reproduce. "You'll be in two student groups: one boy and one girl to each team," he said. "Today we'll work on a fire-proofing charm and getting acquainted with the firemanes. Next lesson you'll be grooming them to further acquaint them with your scents. After that, if you have a preferred partner you can submit your request in writing and I'll consider allowing it." He dismissed the class without giving homework.

The class was quickly falling into clumps as they walked back. Students making partnership agreements. Ginny suspected that she was going to be stuck with whoever was left, but her apprehension about Riddle made her want to get a chastity potion as quickly as possible. She hurried up to the castle's medical wing, but Madam Pomfrey, the matron, refused her request. She told Ginny that there was no need because none of the students would ever, ever force himself on another student, and if Ginny suspected someone was going to she should speak with the head of her house immediately.

As Ginny left the room, scowling, MacNair turned up. "Weasley," he said. "Riddle's looking for you. Your brother told me what happened."

"And?"

"And I think that we're in trouble," he said. "We're planning on meeting in the library after dinner." He nodded his head towards the Great Hall. "Come on, I'll walk you."

Dinner was a quite affair. She sat with Bill and talked casually about her lessons. Bill agreed that things were harder. He was preparing for N.E.W.T.S and already had loads of homework even though it was just the first day. He told her that Slughorn was the potions master and Moody was the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "There's also a Dueling Club and annual competition," he said. "I've signed us both up. We're going to need the practice."

Later in the library they tried to figure out a way to stop Voldemort, but it turned out that none of them knew enough about his rise to power to develop an actual plan. All Bill knew was that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had been looking for something that had to go with goblins. They thought it would help, but they'd played it close to the chest. MacNair knew that Voldemort had kept Nagini, his snake close and put her in a protective bubble charm. He'd also been furious that Lucius Malfoy had given Ginny his diary. Ginny knew that the Chamber of Secrets had been closed because Riddle didn't want Hogwarts to close. She also knew that there was a deadly basilisk down there. Oh, and when Harry, Ron, and Hermione had returned to Hogwarts they were looking for something important in Ravenclaw tower.

Even putting it all together they didn't have much. MacNair crossed his arms across his chest, making his robes strain across the shoulders. "So the only solid lead we have is the Chamber," MacNair finally said. "We'll need a rooster, I guess."

Ginny frowned. "Rooster?"

"The cry of a rooster is fatal to a basilisk," MacNair said. He added with a smug look. "I've always been good with magical creatures. It was my best subject back at Hogwarts. I even got along okay with ole' Greyback."

Bill grimaced at the mention of the werewolf. Ginny grimaced at the memory of rooster feathers dusting her robes, blackouts, and red paint on her hands.

MacNair was still talking. "The problem is that roosters don't like to cry when you want them to and tend to not want to do it at all in cold, clammy dungeons. We'll have to lure the basilisk into the school grounds."

"Too risky," Ginny said. "Someone could die. And You-Know-Who will probably try to stop us."

MacNair shrugged. "It was an idea." His tone hinted that he thought this was some sort of adventure.

"A better idea would be to find a charm to make a rooster crow," Bill said. "And it wouldn't hurt to learn the Shifty-Eye Curse."

"Shifty-Eye Curse?" Ginny and MacNair asked simultaneously.

"Yeah, it makes it so the cursed person can't make eye-contact. A decent number of hexes require eye contact between the caster and the victim. The Shifty-Eye Curse means you can't make eye contact. Your eyes will not look directly or indirectly into the eyes of your opponent."

"How long does that last?"

"Two minutes," Bill said. He handed both of them sheets of paper with the Curse copied onto them. "We'll meet for practice in the Potions classroom every morning before breakfast."

The spell looked ridiculously complicated for a mere two minutes of shifty eyes. Ginny tucked it into her Transfiguration textbook. Then, without warning both Bill and MacNair stood up and headed in opposite directions. "We need a better meeting place. We shouldn't be seen together," Bill muttered as he passed her. "I'll send an owl tonight."

MacNair didn't say anything, but he seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Bill.

Ginny watched them leave and pulled out her History of Magic textbook and her homework assignment. There were plenty of people in the library so it wasn't like she was in danger of getting nabbed by Riddle and she did need to get caught up if she didn't want to fail all of her classes.

A shadow blotted out her light. She looked up and Lily smiled down at her. "Do you mind?" Lily asked motioning to the chair Bill had vacated. She sat down without waiting for an answer and pulled out her Transfiguration homework. Lily hummed quietly to herself as she worked and occasionally she glanced at the door to the library.

The Marauders arrived ten minutes later and took a nearby table. James waved to Lily, who ignored him, and Sirius blew Ginny a kiss, which she didn't see because she had gotten caught up reading her textbook.

Twenty minutes later Severus Snape sulked into the room and dropped his books noisily on the table. His cold dark eyes swept the room and he sneered at Madam Pince who was giving him a dirty look. He gave the Marauders an even nastier look.

"Get lost, Snape," Ginny hissed. She hooked the chair leg on his chair and pulled it in so he couldn't sit. "This is a git-free zone."

His lip curled maliciously. "Trust me, Weasley, I have no desire to sit by you." He yanked the chair out and sat down. His eyes fell on Lily who was glaring at both of them. An expression akin to pain flashed across his pale face, but it was quickly replaced with a guarded look. He pulled out his charms book and a roll of parchment. Ginny read the title of his paper: Memory charms. He had leaned forward so his hook nose nearly touched the paper and within seconds was writing a detailed paper with spidery handwriting.

Lily sighed. "Severus can be a little anti-social," she said to Ginny. "But he's really a good man. You should give him a chance."

"A chance?" Ginny repeated. "Uhmm . . . yeah, I'll consider that." She snorted. "Not!"

Snape's eyes swiveled to hers. "Weasley, we're in the library," he said. "Keep your voice down." His lips barely moved. Even as a teenager he managed to convey barely suppressed loathing with a few choice words.

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him, but didn't say anything. Even if he couldn't give her detention he could still probably curse her.

He gave her a withering look and returned to his paper.

Ginny spent the next forty minutes reading the assigned chapters for History of Magic. By the time she finished Snape had moved from Charms to Herbology and Lily was working on her Herbology homework as well. Ginny started on Transfiguration and found her mind wandered to Sirius. She could remember him explaining some of the finer details Transfiguration principles in class earlier. His lips were so . . . She stole a glance at him.

He caught her looking and casually saluted her. All of his books were spread out, including several thick transfiguration tomes and a couple books that appeared to deal with Dueling Skills. All four of the Marauders were studying hard, hardly whispering to each other at all.

Ginny was surprised. She'd thought of James being like Harry, Sirius being like Ron, and Remus being like Hermione. In short, one person studying and the other two dawdling. Apparently that wasn't the case. Pettigrew was the only one who looked like he wanted to go and play. The others were studious and writing their assignments with neat handwriting.

Sirius had removed his tie and undone a couple of buttons on his shirt, exposing a tantalizing bit of bare skin. With a shake of her head, Ginny put down her quill. She was not going to think about Sirius that way. He was Harry's godfather and over twice her age (even if he was currently her age). Besides, he was trouble and she needed to stay out of trouble because she had to work with MacNair and Bill to stop Voldemort. It was just too bad that MacNair wasn't more of a confidant with Voldemort. If he was there was a chance they'd known more of what was going on now.

Ginny tapped her quill against her parchment.

Snape looked up, glowering. "Stop that noise," he hissed.

She tapped her quill harder, glowering back at him. Snape had been Voldemort's number two guy – or pretty close to it – hadn't he? He probably knew loads about the Dark Lord. And at a mere sixteen years, he probably hadn't had much chance to practice occlumency, so his mind was probably an open to a careful invasion.

She forced her attention back to transfiguration, but watched Snape periodically until he appeared absorbed in reading about quickgrass. Then, moving slowly so as not to draw attention, she pulled her wand and aimed it at him under the table. Casting non-verbal spells took a good deal more skill than casting verbal ones. But Ginny knew a few spells like the back of her hand. _Legilimens_, she thought. There was a rush of darkness and then she was in Snape's mind.

Reading someone's mind was not like reading a book. There were layers of memories mingled with feelings, thoughts, dreams, and fears. Ginny knew enough to direct her mental invasion toward Voldemort and the Death Eaters. The images flashed rapidly, and then she saw Voldemort, red-eyed and flat nosed in a dimly lit room. Voldemort said softly, "I have a problem, Severus."

"My Lord?" Snape asked.

Voldemort held up a wand that looked like Dumbledore's. "Why doesn't it work for me, Severus?" he asked. A twelve foot snake hissed softly in the silence.

"My – my Lord?" Snape asked blankly. Ginny realized with a start that he wasn't sixteen. He was dressed in black robes, his pale skin practically glowing in the dark. "I do not understand. You – You have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."

The images skipped a bit, flashing to Snape taking the wand from Draco Malfoy and then pointing his wand at Dumbledore. Dumbledore was begging him, "Please, Severus . . ." There was a flash of green light and Dumbledore was falling off the tower, long silver hair flowing.

The images skipped forward and Voldemort was hissing at Nagini in parseltongue. Then the snake's fangs were sinking into Snape's neck. "I regret it," Voldemort said coldly as the color drained from Snape's face and he fell to the floor. Voldemort and the snake left, leaving Snape on the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in his neck.

Then, like a door being slammed shut the images went dark and Ginny was suddenly thrown from Snape's mind. The force of his spell casting her out knocked her out of her chair. She crashed into a bookcase, dislodging several books. They hit the floor with a loud thump. She was pale and sweaty and tried to scramble to her feet.

Snape was looking at her murderously.

"What happened, Weasley?" Lily asked, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"

One table over the Marauders were all on their feet, reaching for their wands, eyes on Snape.

Ginny had lifted her wand, pointing it toward Snape. Her arm was trembling. Madam Pince arrived like a furious vulture and slapped Ginny's hand. "Out, out, out!" she cried. "You'll have detention for this." She waved her wand, collecting Ginny's school things and shoving them into her bag. She thrust the bag at Ginny. "You have detention. Report yourself to Mr. Filch and don't ever let me catch you disrupting the peace in here again. You'll not come back for two weeks, do you understand?"

She seized Ginny by her arm, hauling her to her feet and bustling her out the door.

As soon as Ginny was in the hall she broke into a run and didn't stop until she was safe inside Gryffindor tower. Her heart was beating a million miles a minute. Snape had his memories. He hadn't probed her mind – at least she didn't think he had – it was hard to tell because he was excellent at Legilimency.

"Everything okay, Weasley?" Sirius asked, trying to catch her hand. He'd chased her from the library, needing to know what happened. As far as he could tell Snape hadn't done anything to her. His wand had been in his pocket and Sirius couldn't imagine that Snape would be talented at wandless magic.

"Get lost, Black," Ginny snapped, snatching her hand away and darting without a work to her dorm room. She climbed into her bed and drew the curtains and stayed there, trying to remember how to breathe.

Snape had his memories.

She'd been stupid for trying to probe his mind. He was dangerous and talented and evil. And she'd just drawn his cruel, twisted attention to herself.


End file.
